I swallow hard. Heat crawls up my neck at the memory. I wanted him to kiss me. In that moment of weakness, I craved his touch like air. Ironic that he was the one who stepped away. It crushed my pride. I swear he saw my hunger for him at that moment, and he took a step back.
Bastard.
I’m convinced he’s just playing with me now.
Dangerous memories flash through my head. Of me spread on the sheets. Alessandro between my legs. The pleasure. The heat. My moans. Alessandro’s husky voice.
A shudder runs through my body.
Because even with Domenico, I never felt like that
Never that… sharp pull.
Never has my body betrayed me like this.
Guilt follows immediately after that thought. I’m as much a murderer as Alessandro and every man in our wicked world. I may not have held the gun, but I killed Domenico. He’s dead because of me.
I force my gaze out the window again.
The city rushes past in streaks of color and movement.
Luxury stores. Tall buildings. People living normal lives that don’t involve forced marriages and mafia politics and men who shoot people at lunch tables.
It didn’t escape my notice that Alessandro shot Pietro right after he indirectly called me dumb. Maybe I’m being delusional, but is it really a far-fetched thought? Especially when the same man punched my father for speaking down on me the day before.
“We’re almost there,” Daniela squeals, squeezing my hand. “Sienna, I’m in charge of choosing jewelry.”
“No, I’m in charge of that. I’m older, so I have more experience,” Camilla shoots back.
They’re already arguing when we pull into the Gallo Mall underground garage.
Yes. Gallo Mall.
Of all places, my father insisted on this one—just to prove a point. That the Carusos and the Gallos are now “family.”
The mall is sleek enough, designer stores lined up like trophies, but I can’t shake the irritation. Everything here reminds me of him.
The car stops and we get out one by one as the guards follow us into the elevator.
“What type of wedding dress do you want, Sienna?” Camilla asks gently.
I don’t answer right away. Because the truth is that I don’t know, I don’t care and I definitely don’t want to think about it.
“Can we skip the dress today?” I ask instead. “We can do accessories.”
Camilla studies me, then nods like she understands more than she says.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t still look at dresses,” Daniela says with a grin. “We’ve got Papa’s card. Shop till you drop.”
Of course, she says it like it’s a blessing.
Daniela always says there are no benefits to being Massimo’s daughter other than his money so whenever she can she spends it.
Smart, if you ask me.
They pull me into the first boutique.
Glass, white lights, mannequins frozen in perfection. I see outrageous price tags hanging from luxurious dresses. Daniela is already going through the racks, obviously on a Max-Papa’s-Card mission.
